


The Goblin Under the Overpass

by VanillaBroompolish



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Love at First Sight, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Thirsty Steve Rogers, it's basically that, there are no goblins in this, yall know the post of Hayley Atwell and her...'assets'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaBroompolish/pseuds/VanillaBroompolish
Summary: “Listen I try to be a decent adult grown human... but sometimes... another decent adult grown person just looks like That...”Steve meets the Winter Soldier during a small alien invasion. He's not prepared.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 15
Kudos: 147





	The Goblin Under the Overpass

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno what this is except self-indulgent and crack that hardly fit the 'prompt' but here you go.  
[**This**](https://vanillabroompolish.tumblr.com/post/189824094130/hayley-atwell-listen-i-try-to-be-a-decent-adult) is the tumblr post that inspired this.  
100% not beta read

To set the stage, it started with a hostage situation between the highway town of Fresno and an alien dictatorship.

_‘Not That Fresno!’_ The welcoming signs proudly declared as hundreds of insect like soldiers paced the streets. 7 feet in height with dirt yellow armour and with sleek grey metal laser weapons in hand they forced terrified and reactive civilians into buildings. The Avengers, and such marvellous Avengers they were, were on scene within the hour armed to the teeth and ready to rescue the thousands of civilians trapped in their homes.

At first glance it looked like a simple situation with an easy fix.

Ignorant alien race, coming in understaffed and with little knowledge of earth's finer workings, up against the Earth's mightiest? It shouldn’t have taken longer than 45 minutes. An hour tops.

Hour 8 and the Avengers were still fighting their hearts out, the end not any closer in sight.

They had already started two men short, with Thor off world and Banner benched due to the fragility of the town. Now they'd been beaten back slowly but surely, the firepower they started with no longer in aid.

Clint had switched to bullets ages ago, which really said enough about the state they were in, while Nat was holed up by the town square with a broken tibia and a faulty laser cutter Tony had dropped in her lap an hour ago. That was of course before the alien's own laser weapons seemed to suck the last of the power out of the Iron Man suit and Tony was forced to call in the last of his mock-up pieces. Maria had been forced to call in back up from off sight –two SHIELD teams had already been cycled out due to injuries.

Steve wasn’t doing so hot either.

At this point, and this is the moment Steve will forever cite as the start of his doom, at this point in time Steve has misplaced his shield.

Okay. He’s lost it.

He's lost it because he whipped it up into a soaring past one-man ship and instead of it rebounding off the pilot’s skull and into Steve’s hand like Steve's done _a literal thousand _other times -it decided to rebound off his skull and into the puttering away adjacent ship.

So, you know, that’s nice. Convenient.

Like each Avenger in every other corner of the town, he’s been trying to hold back the onslaught from extending past the city, slowly working his way back inwards from the outer limits. But unlike the others, for whatever reason, more troops had been coming Steve’s way over the course of the last hour; their artillery becoming more and more hazardous to the surrounding structures, not to mention Steve himself.

Steve feigned right as an alien aimed it's weapon, dodging to the left at the last second as the creature took their shot. In a quick leap he was in its face; grabbing the gun by the burning hot barrel and using it to hit its owner unconscious to the ground. Without waiting Steve fell back into a roll, the zip of an electric hot laser ringing by his ear as he came to his feet and slid behind a nearby taxi.

Option 1. Use phone to call Tony for back up and leave the North sector unattended while he comes to Steve's rescue. Not ideal.

Option 2. Hit emergency extraction tracker and hope Maria has an emergency team to spare. Not likely but still a possibility.

Option 3. Making due and fighting his lily white ass out of here. Stupid but not as stupid as mentioning wings to the costume designer in 1943.

Going with option three Steve ripped the trunk hood off the back of the taxi and using his makeshift shield to guard himself, he walked backwards for cover. It was going to well until Steve was suddenly in shadow and he looked up to see he’d been corralled under the highway bridge –it at least gave him some cover from above he thought. The metal of the hood began to heat rapidly and with little ways out Steve threw the hood towards his attackers and ducked behind the nearby concrete beam.

This is where Steve messed up.

See, jumping behind a concrete beam is all well and good if you’re hiding from gunfire –even laser fire –but it kind does jack-shit against explosives. (_No offense concrete_)

Right, so Steve is hiding behind his non explosive-proof concrete, under a non explosive-proof bridge when the enemy combatants decide to send a rocket his way. Steve’s not sure if their aim is just that terrible or it was their goal all along, but either way, a whole section of the bridge collapses down around him.

Ankle? Fucked. Arm socket? Popped out. Head? Ringing.

Cool. 10/10 would not recommend Steve’s job.

Steve lays there with his eyes closed for a second, imagining a version of himself that wasn’t an adrenaline junkie (_See, he can admit it Sam_). Not breaking bones and getting the wind knocked out of him daily did have a nice appeal to it but it was still a pretty boring picture.

Expecting to be buried alive by rubble Steve opens his eyes surprised to see he’s pretty much fine. Some debris must’ve hit him in the blast but even most of his trusty concrete beam is still intact. Most of the damage appeared to be from the 15 foot hole where the road above once was.

He looks to where the attacking aliens had been only to see one steadying itself onto its knee, a glowing red weapon powering up as it aimed another shot.

A shot directly pointed towards Steve.

Steve’s life does not flash before his eyes. One –because he’s been in enough near death situations that it just stopped happening somewhere around the 4th time in 1939 –Two because alien in yellow number 324 gets Steve’s shield to the back of the head instead.

_Uh......What?_

It’s the only thought Steve has until he sees him.

Him.

Then Steve's brain cuts to static.

_He_ catches Steve’s shield as it soars back to him, a plated metal arm spinning with the force and sending the vibranium back in an arc to another group of soldiers. In the man's other hand is a rifle unlike Steve has ever seen, and as Steve’s shield hits its target the man takes his shots. 5 yellow clad soldiers hit the ground by the time he catches Steve's shield back in his metal hand.

A group begins to flank _Him_ from the side and if Steve was capable of more than gurgles and wheezing he might’ve called out a warning. As it was, Steve sat wide eyed while his mystery rescuer flipped the shield into the air, his metal fist punching the sheet of metal into the advancing group. The sound of metal on metal splits the air, the man’s fist against the vibranium echoing under the remaining underpass. The shield hit the first alien with enough force to take his feet off the ground, the soldier bowling into the two behind him.

The two aliens that remained unaffected by the attack advanced forward and the man grabbed the closest one's gun barrel –swinging himself behind the creature with a move straight out of Natasha's book and choking it out with its own weapon. He used its body as a shield from the other, his hand going towards his black Kevlar covered thigh and pulling something free.

Before Steve could realize what _He_ had been planning; a 6 inch blade was imbedded into the creature’s collarbone. The other alien went to take its shot now that its ally was dead but as it moved its strangely insect like arms the man threw another knife deep into its forehead.

Now that thing Steve’s thinking –he isn’t proud of it. And if we’re all being honest here, he couldn’t _not_ think about it even if he tried.

See, Steve lives in the public eye and while he doesn’t see what the big deal is, according to Natasha Steve has ‘_just one of those bodies_’, despite the fact he's barely been in it 5 years. So, he’s been on the receiving end of some more than strictly appropriate ogles and comments enough to know how uncomfortable it is.

But at this moment in time, in front of this man, God and a pile of dead aliens, Steve can only stare and think;

That Ass.

To be fair it’s not just his ass in those black cargo pants –it’s also his thighs. And his arms. His back. The hair. The knives. The gun. Using Steve’s shield like it was made for this man to wield.

Mainly it’s the guy’s ass that’s making him pant out guttural gasps –watching the hypnotic stranger in black take down solider after solider is just the sexy cherry on top.

It’s bad enough he’s brunette – and holy shit does Steve have a weak spot for brunettes –but add in the gun, and the ‘fuck-with-me-and-die’ attitude and Steve never stood a goddamn chance.

He wants to paint that ass with the finest paints on a 6 foot tall canvas and hang it above his bed. He wants to map out the curves of this sculpted piece of art like he’s planning a 14 day op. Steve wants to call Sam and say ‘_thighs_.’ because his language processing is behind 18 layers of _ugh fuck WOW. ASS. god BACK wow THIGHS_ and because he feels like a caveman discovering fire for the first time.

This man's glorious, deadly, muscular body was an equally mind blowing discovery to Steve –screaming and grunting in awe seemed only appropriate.

Steve does end up sending a text to Sam but he’s not sure how much sense he makes when Steve’s choking back a keen watching the man aim a solid kick to an armour clad creature's chest.

It’s embarrassing. He’s 28, sitting in rubble on his ass surrounded by debris with a hard-on while he watches the sexiest thing he’s ever seen slit throats and cave in chest cavities. He can’t even see the man’s face, the thick mask covering up everything below the eyes. Steve could sit here forever watching though; it’s the best porn he’s ever seen.

Yeah, caved in exoskeletons and all; it’s doing it for him.

He watches gobsmacked over the course of a minute as the man takes down the remaining wave of soldiers. Steve doesn’t know where to look because –wow that ass –but also –eidetic memory and the longest dry spell known to man.

Soooo.

Eventually the street finally clears and Mr. Sexy uses his oh so tight pants to wipe his blades clean of green-yellow goo as he pulls them out of fallen enemies necks and chests. He continues to pick knife after knife out of bodies until finally he’s standing just a few feet from Steve.

His eyes are grey.

Steve’s dying. He's actually dying.

“You alright?”

OH, okay… Steve’s really fucked isn’t he? Because Mr. Sexy has a Super Sexy accent and Steve’s never been able to handle himself around accents.

Deadly? Brunette? Accented? An ass you could bounce quarters off of?

It’s fucking perfection.

“Wha?” Steve says.

“Captain?” Mr. Super Sexy looks worried behind his mask and Steve works to not give the impression that's he received serious head trauma.

“Sss-Steve,” His brain manages to get itself together to say his own name and Steve goes for the gold. “I’m Steve.” Nice.

“Steve.” His fucking gorgeous grey eyes look Steve over and Steve thanks his rapidly melting brain that he had the forethought to place his hands over his tightening crotch before the man walked over. “Can you still fight Steve?”

A glove covered hand reached behind the man’s head and suddenly the mask fell away revealing what heart stopping face lay underneath.

Okay.

Well. That’s swell, real ace. Face matches the body then. Good. To. Know.

Half of his brain is just noise. Like, weird horrified awed screaming as Steve stops himself from pointing a finger in this man’s face and panting. Those cheekbones were not fair. That jawline wasn't fair. Those God gifted lips were not fair. The whole package should've been marked as weapons of mass destruction, no different than Tony’s suits and the Hulk.

Instant evisceration of Steve's body and mind.

The other half of his brain is trying to remember ring etiquette when it came to proposing to a man. Do men wear engagement rings in the future? Maybe he'd want a diamond covered rifle. Maybe a diamond in the shape of a rifle. Steve could get both -better safe than sorry.

Steve makes another choking sound, his head bobbing around like the dolls of himself he’s seen in cars. He's making a conscience effort to keep his mouth from gaping and drooling like the shocked stupid horndog he truly is.

“Mm-hmm. Y-yeah,” Steve slams shut his eyes because looking at this man and thinking at the same time just isn't plausible. “I mean. No. My… my ankle. And my shoulder.”

“Broken?”

“Twisted. Maybe. The arm -it’s dislocated.” Please don’t let this be happening because Steve’s not going to recover he’s really not if this man touches Steve with his blessed, glorious metal hand–

Steve lets out a noise and gust of air as the man’s flesh hand braces against Steve’s arm.

“Sorry.”

“Mm-mmm. It’s- it’s fine.”

Steve’s dead. He died and he went to sexy deadly Heaven. There is only illegally sexy, deadly, accented grey eyes left and Steve needs to find a jewellery maker who can work with vibranium. Maybe something in black too. Mr. Illegally Sexy looks unbelievably good in black.

Oh shit –what if black isn’t even this guys colour? What if he looks better in something else?

What a fucking brain annihilating thought.

“I’m going to push it back into place. It’s going to hurt.”

Steve’s pants out a nervous laugh, his mush brain speaking without him meaning too. “Aren’t ya’ gonna buy me d-dinner first?”

Why.

Why Steve. Why are you like this? Why do you do this. Why.

Before Steve could drag his aflame body into the nearest ditch to die of embarrassment, Illegally Sexy Deadly Accented Brunette with The Ass and Eyes huffed out a laugh, a lopsided smile appearing on his lethal face.

Chaos. Just chaos in Steve’s brain.

He's going to spend so much money painting this guy's face, he knows it.

“If you get off your ass maybe.” He teased back, white teeth flashing as his devastating smile gained power.

Steve’s jaw unhinged while he basked in the shadow of the man’s glory. Then he yelped right in the man’s devastatingly lethal illegal sexy face as his shoulder slotted back into its socket with a sharp pop.

Steve bent forward with a ragged breath, grabbing his arm and working his shoulder as the pain faded. It’d be worse in a couple minutes when it started to heal back up but for now it felt hot and tingling.

A heavy, soft, hand landed on his spine, patting his back gently as Steve thanked his lucky stars the pain was enough to will the situation in his uniform away.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied a little breathlessly. He was even closer than before and at this distance Steve could see every alluring detail of the man’s face.

Mr and Mr Rogers. Mr and Mr Sexy. Captain and Mr Sexy-Rogers. Steve and Holy Fucking Shit Rogers.

“James.”

“Hmm?” Steve hummed stupidly, staring at the curls of hair kissing the broad shoulders of Mr Sexy.

“James. My name. People who eat dinner together usually know each other’s names first.” He stood up from his crouch, standing over Steve with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

Sexy's thighs were at eye level now.

“I’m. Steve.”

He wants to die between those thighs. He wants to take a 4 month long vacation and spend every second with his face _buried _and _worshipping_-

“Yes –you said that already.” Sexy –James –quirked the corners of his mouth up, his eyes dragging over Steve’s body as the blond remained sitting in debris. Steve felt his nerves set a light and a deep flush rode its way up his chest and to his cheeks. “Are you ready to get back to work?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah. I’m good,” Steve bumbled, rising to his feet as James handed back over Steve’s shield. “Thanks. For –you know –uh, saving me. That was, uh, good work. Thank you.”

“Of course.” The man hummed low in his throat his gaze lingering on Steve’s hand as the blond worked out the kinks in his arm, a glazed look coming over steely grey eyes before he blinked the emotions away and smirked once more at Steve. “We should head back. The quicker this is over, the quicker I can take you to dinner.”

“W-what?” Steve felt his eyes go wide, staring back at Illegally Sexy James with absolute shock.

“Dinner. After,” James un-shouldered his gun and raised a dark knowing eyebrow at Steve. “If you’re not busy?”

“I’m not busy.” Steve rushed to say, his voice embarrassingly breathy. “I can –I can do dinner.” Steve can’t believe this is happening, Sexy James wants to go out with him –he might get to see Illegally Sexy James naked.

Steve’s dead.

“Good.” James says, reloading his gun with the ammo pack strapped to his other insanely muscular thigh not strapped with knives. James jerked his head back down the street, dark waves bouncing with the motion. “Let’s go.”

Not waiting for a reply James turned around and started walking back to the direction of the slightly smoking town. Steve following behind, his head tilting side to side in time with James hips as they swaggered away ahead of him.

That ass.

Holy shit.

From Steve  
To Sam

    TGUHS SM  
Hhhh ep L ???? ass  


    

To Steve  
From Sam

    

    Wht???  
Did u pocket text me? I cant understand that man  
You need some help in Fresno?  


To Sam  
From Steve

    ASS SAM.  
THIGHS. AND ASS.  
<picture attachment>  
SAM.  
<picture attachment>

**Author's Note:**

> "Listen I try to be a decent adult grown human, and be respectful to women because they deserve it as fellow humans, but sometimes I reblog a tumblr post because another decent adult grown person just looks like That, and I am reduced to the equivalent of a weird little Goblin, crouching under a broken bit of cement by the highway overpass, clutching a single piece of paper with the word “boobs” written in awkward handwriting and capital letters on a squelchy bit of gray receipt paper, waving that paper at people as they walk past, desperately hoping someone else sees the miracle that I see."
> 
> Don’t be absolute **scum** and repost my work.  
I’m my own dyslexia ridden Beta so please let me know if you spot any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.  
follow me at my tumblr [**here**](https://vanillabroompolish.tumblr.com)!  
and please check out my D.I.D Steve fic [**here**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775435)!
> 
> takes nothing to hit kudos so if you didn’t hate it please do so( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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